when I was six,
I always asked my mom
to check under my bed
she'd smile, tuck me in
and say, “it's all in your head”
the monster—in my mind
hid in the shadows
and kept me awake
left me with an uneasy feeling
I just can't seem to shake
but when I grew up
I didn't fear monsters
not anymore
so I got on my knees
and laid my head on the floor
the monster stared back at me
its eyes colored crimson
but they were meek
not scary, not daunting
just a little weak
it gently reached out to me
with slender fingers
sharp claws in its end
it didn't feel like a foe
but almost like a friend
I found comfort
within the darkness
made peace with the unknown
the monster—wasn't so much of a monster
on the days I felt all alone